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She had loved me for years. As a woman loves a man, not as a sister loves a brother. And now that her secret was out in the open, she tried to convince me that it was our time. Our moment to do something about it.
Not buying that for a second, knowing she’d have any one of my brothers to secure her future, I asked her if she was going to say the same thing to Reuben or Luca. She denied my allegations, saying it was always only ever me, but I don’t believe her. And I’d always thought she was handsy, affectionate, and tactile because she was a woman. And after discussing Sienna’s arrival at cabin one when everything imploded, Winter told us that she’d always found her jealous and proprietary.
Sienna’s behavior finally made sense.
I learned that Sienna’s mom told her about her true paternity when she was fourteen, but Anna Maria Wolfford was happy living a life of luxury, profiting from her lies even when the marriage broke down.
Who lives a lie that far-reaching? How cunning and fucking duplicitous can one person be to pretend that your child was not the result of a brief affair you had, but another man’s? The insidiousness, the callousness is astronomical. It’s been deeply damaging to us all. But Dad is my main concern right now. He’s retreated, looking inwardly at the past twenty-three years when he was convinced he had a daughter, and a marriage based on mutual respect. He’s devastated, not only by the profound secret, but he was so happy to have a girl amongst his sons. And she played him, knowing for years that he wasn’t her real father.
And he’s apoplectic with rage at Anna Maria. The treachery is hard to stomach, to understand, when all you’ve been is generous and good. Needless to say, The Moms are furious.
Along with my brothers, we’re scattered around the living room as we slowly come to terms with the bombshell revelations. The mood is somber, but it’s comfortable enough. Between us we hash out thoseI don’t understand why?questions. TheWhen?and theWhat?and theHow?Occasionally, Roo picks up his guitar and strums recognizable songs, time drifting by.
Winter always gets a kick out of hearing him play. I like that she does. I like that they have a thing outside of work.
A low-flamed fire burns in the grate. We rarely bother with it, but it reminds me of cabin one and the games we played with Winter. It makes me want to relive them, here, my involvement never questioned.
“Let’s go get your Dad,” Winter suggests, rising from the sofa.
“He won’t come. Balthazar’s nursing his wounds,” Roo murmurs.
For the past few days, me and my brothers have tried to surround him with company and distractions. We’ve not been very successful.
“Well, I’m going to drag your Dad here whether he likes it or not,” Winter announces. She jumps to her feet, determined, and looks across at Reuben. Wiggling her fingers in his direction, she wordlessly beckons him.
“You want some company?” he asks.
“Please.”
Slowly, he stands, making a move to follow her as she wanders through the suite towards the front door. He hesitates, and at first, I think it’s because he’s regretting his comment at the lodge. But whatever is going through his head, I catch his attention, whispering, “Hey, we need to finalize our future. Dad needs stability more than ever.”
Nodding, he heads after Winter.
“What do you think the chances are that he’ll come?” Luca asks.
“Slim. But you know Winter.”
He snorts. “He’ll be here. He wants to know where we stand. And although I know he had a soft spot for her before Sienna revealed herself to be the snake I always thought she was, I have a feeling he’s going to pour all of his devotion on her now.”
“Let’s hope she’s onboard,” I tell him, our eyes locking.
We’ve talked about which one of us should marry Winter, but ultimately it all depends on who she wants. And anyway, she might refuse; she did tell us she had no plans on being part of our weird succession plans.
Multiple sets of feet approach. When I hear Dad’s voice, Luca smirks in victory.
Smug prick.
“Hey, Dad!”
“Luca, Brecken,” he greets, hugging us. I’ve not seen him for an entire day, and although that’s not uncommon if we’re away on business, if we’re at home we always catch five minutes together.
“Take a seat,” Winter suggests, placing a soft hand on his shoulder. “I’ll get some wine.”
Winter heads into the kitchen as Dad falls into the sofa adjacent to me.
It hurts to see him hurting. And while we’re all reeling, he looks utterly broken. Sleep-deprived, inky bruises gather under his eyes. They contrast against his skin which looks paler than usual.
“How are you feeling?” Luca asks.
